She's Not There
by TitansRule
Summary: Don seeks Jess's help in interviewing the girls from the trafficking ring and they try to make sense of it all. Story #58 in my Kindred Spirits series.


**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI:NY. I do own Megan Andrews.  
****Series: 'Kindred Spirits'. You don't have to read all the others first, but they do all lead on to each other; there's a full list on my profile.  
****Spoilers: **_**She's Not There. **_**I did take a few liberties, but that's what we do XD**

* * *

She's Not There

A single homicide was a slow week in NYC for a homicide detective, but Jess was exhausted anyway.

She was fast asleep when she felt it; a feather-light touch on her lips, then her forehead.

"Jess …"

Jess groaned, slowly fighting her way back to awareness, her eyes flickering open to see Don sitting next to her, looking tired. Immediately, she knew something was wrong; it wasn't uncommon for him to let himself into her apartment, but he normally just climbed into bed beside her, without waking her. She sat up, shaking her tiredness away. "What happened?"

"Sex trafficking ring." Don muttered, pulling her into his arms. "We got to the first place seconds too late; found a load of empty mattress … drugs … and one girl, Katie. Or Carolyn. Or Lisa – whatever her name is. She went to the bathroom and ran for it. Turned out, she was in on it; I think she was worse than the guy running it – those girls trusted her!"

Jess tightened her arms around him, but couldn't stop her own anger coursing through her as she listened. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Actually, yeah, there is." Don admitted, pulling away. "FBI's willing to let us take it, but we need to talk to those girls. Some have been there a while; they're alright talking to men – I think they're used to it. But some of the newer girls try to make themselves part of the wall when a man walks in the room, so …"

"Got it." Jess slipped out of his arms to get dressed.

It was only ten minutes before they were in his car, heading for the precinct, making a quick pit stop for coffee so they were both more awake when they got there.

Vice members and homicide detectives mingled in the bullpen all, for once, working towards the same goal.

"Thanks for coming in, Angell!" The captain called across. "Room 20."

Jess gave Don a questioning look as they made their way through the chaos. "Room 20's an observation room."

"We don't have enough space." Don explained. "There's at least 30 girls. Some of them are at the crime lab; some have gone home, managed to get hold of their parents. We put as many as we could in the family rooms, but …"

Jess nodded in understanding. She stopped at the water cooler. "With you. What do you know about her?"

"Nothing at the moment." Don admitted. "She hasn't even given us a name. She's easily the most terrified. I'm guessing she's the newest."

Jess nodded, swallowing her own anger at the sick people that ran something like this. "I got it, Don. Wish me luck." Glass of water in hand, she pushed open the observation room door.

The young girl wasn't much older than seventeen and shrank back at her entrance, her eyes screaming with terror.

Jess smiled softly at her. "Hi, I'm Detective Angell, but you can just call me Jess." She put the glass of water in front of her, not really expecting the girl would take it, and not surprised when she didn't. She sat down on the other side of the table, feigning casualness. "Have you seen a doctor?"

The girl shook her head slightly.

"Do you need to?" Jess asked.

The girl hesitated, then shook her head again.

Jess sighed inwardly, taking a sip of her coffee to mask it. She'd dealt with rape victims before, but nothing like this. She put her cup down, moving it and the glass out the way, so there was nothing between them, and reached out a hand. "Do you trust me?"

A pause.

Then the girl nodded hesitantly.

_It's a start_. "They're gone." Jess told her gently. "They can't hurt you anymore."

Slowly, the girl placed a small trembling hand in hers and Jess closed her fingers around it, squeezing softly. "You're safe now."

The teenager let out a quiet sob. "I want to go home."

Jess moved around the table quickly, gathering the young girl into a hug. She knew it wasn't professional or encouraged to become too emotionally involved, but this girl was nothing more than a child, and she needed comfort before anything else.

"We'll get you home, sweetheart." Jess whispered. "Where is home?"

"Kimberly, Idaho."

"And what's your name?"

"Megan." She answered. "Megan Andrews."

"How long have you been in New York, Megan?" Jess asked gently.

"Two, maybe three weeks." Megan began shaking. "I always wanted to visit. Then I met Janie; she was on vacation and we really hit it off. She invited me to stay with her; it took ages to convince my parents and … we met up in Time Square; she said her parents were coming to pick us up; we must've gotten in the wrong SUV! Is Janie okay?"

"Megan …" Jess sighed. "Janie was in on it. She lured girls like you to New York with vacations and modelling jobs and acting auditions. There never were any parents."

"She knew?" Megan whispered. "How could … How could she do something like that?"

"I don't know." Jess admitted. She offered Megan the glass of water again, and this time the girl took it gratefully.

There was a knock at the door and Jess hesitated, reading the expression on Megan's face. "Come in." She called, hoping it was Don.

It was, thankfully, and he gave Megan a comforting smile, staying the other side of the table. "I ran Megan's name through Missing Persons; got a hit." He explained quietly, handing Jess a file.

"Thanks, Don." Jess smiled at him.

"No problem." Don left them alone again, and Jess opened the file, deciding not to mention that Megan, although she'd watched her partner almost warily the whole time he'd been in the room, hadn't moved or flinched away from him.

"Your parents reported you missing eighteen days ago." Jess told her. "Luckily, they reported you missing with us, or this would have taken forever to find." She pulled her cellphone out and dialled the contact number.

For a few seconds, it just rang, but then there was a click on the other end and a tearful voice answered.

"_Hello?"_

"Hello, is this Caroline Andrews?" Jess asked.

"_Yes, who's this?"_

"This is Detective Jessica Angell, with the New York Police Department." Jess smiled; this was one of the best parts of her job. "We've found your daughter."

There was a silence, then …

"_Pardon?"_

"We've found your daughter." Jess repeated. "Megan. She's alive."

There was a thud, apparently as the phone was dropped in shock.

"_James! James! Megan's alive! James, she's alright!"_

Jess winced. "Ma'am?" She waited, knowing that it would take a few seconds for Megan's parents to collect themselves. "Ma'am?"

"_Can we talk to her?" _Mrs. Andrews asked shakily. _"I need to hear her voice."_

Jess covered the mouthpiece. "Do you want to talk to them?"

Megan looked hesitant. "I don't know." She whispered.

Jess nodded. "Mrs. Andrews, I'm going to give Megan the phone, but don't ask her what happened; I'll explain later."

"_Of course." _She agreed readily.

Jess handed her phone to Megan, who looked a lot happier now she wouldn't have to tell her parents.

"Hi Mom …"

* * *

When Jess found Don, he was standing outside one of the interrogation rooms, looking in at a tearful reunion between parents and daughter. "Megan back with her parents?"

Jess started, having thought he hadn't noticed her approach. "Not yet. They've managed to get a flight tonight, but it should have only just landed. I'm staying until they get here."

"They know yet?" Don asked.

"Not yet." Jess sighed. "I really don't want to have that conversation."

Don glanced over his shoulder and kissed her forehead quickly. "You'll be fine."

"What's the story with her?" Jess asked. "She's not the …"

"No." Don scowled. "She was in a room separate to the others. When I burst in, she was half-naked with a guy on top of her."

"Drugged?" Jess asked quietly, almost praying that she had been.

Don shook his head. "No, she was screaming. I shot him."

"You burst in and he still didn't let her go?" Jess frowned.

Don smiled grimly. "Well, not fast enough."

Jess nodded, allowing herself a smirk. "Good."

"Detective Angell?" Officer Wilson asked quietly. "Mr. and Mrs. Andrews are here."

"Already?" Jess checked her watch. "New York traffic; that's impressive."

"I think a patrol car gave them an escort." Wilson explained to her.

"Good for them." Jess took a deep breath, feeling Don squeeze her hand covertly. "Okay. Let's do this."

As soon as she entered the lobby, she knew that Megan's parents had guessed what had happened, probably due to the number of teenage girls milling around.

"Detective Angell!" Mrs. Andrews wrung her hand as soon as she identified herself. "Please, please tell us these girls are here for another reason!"

Jess sighed. "I wish I could. A few days ago, NYPD received information about a sex-trafficking ring. It was broken up today."

Mrs. Andrews let out a choked sob and her husband wrapped an arm around her.

"We need to speak with that girl's parents." He said quietly. "How could they let this happen?"

"Sir, Janie's parents didn't exist. Janie, technically, doesn't exist. She was part of it." Jess explained heavily.

"How could any woman …?" Mrs. Andrews began.

"I don't know." Jess sighed. "Trust me, I've asked myself that same question a hundred times."

"Is she alright?" Mr. Andrews asked.

"She's shaken." Jess answered. "I'm actually off-shift tonight, but we've got more male detectives than female at the best of times and …"

"She wasn't happy with men in the room." Mrs. Andrews finished in a whisper.

Jess nodded. "Although once I'd talked to her, my partner walked in to give me her MP file and she didn't have a negative response, so that's a good start." She hesitated. "Of course, he was one of the cops who burst in to rescue them, so that might have had something to do with it."

"Will the other girls be alright?" Mr. Andrews asked. "They've got somewhere to go?"

"We're tracking down parents and family now." Jess assured him. "Come on, I'll take you to Megan."

Getting through the bullpen tonight was akin to getting out of a department store just as the sale started, swimming against a tide of people all trying to move in the opposite direction.

Finally they reached the observation room and Jess tapped on the door softly before opening it. "Hey, Megan; it's just me. Your parents are here."

The young girl perked up immediately and Jess stepped back to allow her mother to rush into the room.

Mr. Andrews hung back. "I'm not entirely sure how I should handle this." He whispered.

Jess gave him a comforting smile. "Let her come to you. Tell her you love her and that you missed her and make sure she knows that it wasn't her fault."

"Of course it wasn't her fault!" He hissed.

"I know that." Jess said quietly. "But … situations like this … especially teenagers … they tend to worry that their parents – especially their fathers – will blame them for 'going along with it'. I know it wasn't her fault and you know it wasn't her fault; just make sure she knows you know that."

* * *

Two hours later, Jess was back in bed, but this time Don was with her, running his hands through her hair rhythmically.

Sometimes, after really bad cases, they would fall into bed, taking comfort from each other, urging their lover to wipe away the memories and images of the days gone by.

Today, both had silently agreed that wasn't an option. There were some things that sex just wouldn't solve and dealing with that night was one of them.

"Why is this so difficult?" Don asked quietly after a while. "We've dealt with rape cases before. Why am I having such a hard time with this one?"

"Well, the size of it for one. And their ages. And we normally get the victims afterwards." Jess pointed out. "Not during."

Don shook his head. "No, it's guilt, not disgust."

Jess frowned. "What have you got to feel guilty about? You stopped the guy raping her."

"She looked like you, Jess." Don whispered. "For a split-second, before I got my head straight, I thought it _was_ you. And then I was relieved." He tilted his head to meet her eyes. "I had a half-naked hysterical teenage girl to deal with and I was just relieved that it wasn't you."

"Don, every time a call comes over the radio that there's an officer down, I'm relieved it's not you." Jess admitted. "We're only human."

Don sighed. "I hate being human sometimes."

"Day we stop caring is the day we hand in the badge." Jess murmured. "You know that. And you felt more than relief, you know that."

"Yeah." Don agreed grudgingly. "Though how _you _know that …"

"I know _you_." Jess said softly. "I know that you felt more than relief."

"It was still my gut response though." Don muttered.

"Again, you're human." Jess repeated. "It will be. What's important is that she didn't see that."

"I guess." Don sighed, kissing her forehead, and she knew he'd be alright."

"What's happening with Janie?" Jess asked. "Or Carolyn or Lisa or … whatever."

"Melanie Sanders." Don corrected. "She's going away for a long time. I was hoping that she'd turn out brainwashed or …" He sighed. "She was their first victim, Jess. And decided she liked it."

Jess shuddered at the thought, nestling closer to him. "Parents?"

"Found them." Don grimaced. "Unfortunately. That was _not_ a fun conversation. "Hi Mr. and Mrs. Sanders; we've found your daughter, but we've arrested her instead of rescued her."" He shook his head. "They looked distraught."

"It's possible she's suffering from Stockholm Syndrome." Jess commented.

"From what?" Don frowned.

"Stockholm Syndrome." Jess repeated. "When someone begins to identify with their captor. If she was the first, she would've gotten a larger dose of the drugs, which would have made her susceptible anyway, and then listened to their view of the world. Sufferers often revert to an infant state of mind, seeing their captor as a 'parent' figure who can't be wrong."

"Why?" Don asked, sounding incredulous.

"It's often brought on by periods of neutral behaviour; they see their captor not hurting them as a show of affection or kindness." Jess answered.

"When did you get a psych degree?" Don asked, half-jokingly.

Jess chuckled weakly. "Dad had a kidnapping when I was fourteen; he told me about it. Poor cop who found her undid the ropes, turned to radio his location and got whacked on the head with a lamp. He was okay." She added hastily. "Just a concussion."

"I'm not sure if I want it to be that or not." Don sighed. "I hate these cases."

Jess echoed his sigh, breathing in the familiar scent that seemed to hang around him, which now emanated from the shirt she was swamped in as well as her bed-partner. She chuckled fondly when he told her he loved seeing her in his shirts, but she loved wearing them as well.

"I hate them." He repeated, quieter.

Jess kissed his shoulder, lacing her fingers with his. "Me too."

**

* * *

AN: God, did anyone else hate this epi as much as I did? Not the episode itself; the actual case, I mean. Oh, and I'm not a psychologist; everything Jess said about Stockholm Syndrome I got from Wikipedia, which would automatically fail me if I did it for a uni assignment. But this isn't for uni, so that's alright. Review please!**


End file.
